


Falcone's new Chef

by MyRegardstotheReader



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Food, NSFW, Smut, sex in a kitchen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 19:52:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5678548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyRegardstotheReader/pseuds/MyRegardstotheReader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fish Mooney gets you a job as Falcone’s new chef, as Liza mostly burns things and isn’t the best at cooking. You also have another task, Victor Zsasz, and you take your job… Very Seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falcone's new Chef

“Think of this as… extra credit.” Fish spoke lowly as you fixed your skirt for the third time. Fish had raised you from the gutters, had dusted off your knees and put you to work. She was actually kind to you, unlike alot of girls. Because you did as she asked, every time. You listened well. She reminded you of your last foster mom, she was caring and loving, but in a sharp tongued way. You had loved that woman until her dying day. Which is how you ended up starving and on the streets of Gotham.

“You think he’ll actually like me?” You questioned, looking in the mirror. Fish needed to knock Falcone down a peg, and she had just the plan. While Liza worked on Falcone, you were given someone completely different. Liza couldn’t cook, you could. Falcone tried to help Liza learn but she burnt just about everything. Which is why he mentioned to Fish about needing a cook, and keeping Liza for house work and gardening, sewing, things she was good at.

“Have you seen you? Oh no… he’ll eat you alive.” Fish smirked as she tucked a loose red curl behind your ear. She had it dyed professionally to look rust red, smoky but natural, with dark underlights, concealing your natural color.

“Okay, well… off to work, I suppose.” You giggled as you turned to Fish. “And… thank you.”

“Don’t thank me till you have Victor Zsasz wrapped around your finger. Then… we’ll have a drink to thank each other.”

You were driven up to the Falcone house about 8 am, and dropped off at front. There was a tour by Liza, who said nothing about knowing you. Actually pulled off the innocent house keeper act and you were pleasantly surprised. You were then taken to the kitchen and put your hands to your hips. This was going to be a work in progress. Work for Falcone, keep more eyes and ears out for him, reign in his right hand man. The family was powerful, but Falcone trusted Zsasz. You were to seduce him, entice him, then when Falcone needed him most, distract him. Fish said you would do best. You were outgoing, but almost sickeningly sweet, your kindness beamed, you were going to pull in the killer. You said yes automatically, because Fish asked, but you had your reservations. You knew who he was without ever meeting him.

Fish promised the chance of a lifetime. Have Gotham’s most lethal around your finger… or die on the other end of his knife. Or gun. Fish could never decide which one would end your life if it came to that.

The pancakes were on the grittle, the bacon frying in the pan, eggs just finished scrambling and kept warm on the stove till the last bits were done. You were most pleased to find the whole kitchen stocked.

“I knew it.” You flipped the pancakes off the grittle and stepped back.

“Who knew what?” You asked as the voice stepped into the kitchen, and even more so, into your view. A tall, pale, bald man in a dark blue and navy suit, guns holstered and gloves just now sliding off his long hands. You would be lying if you didn’t think about how those long fingers would feel on your bare flesh.

“I knew there was no way Liza could be making breakfast… it doesn’t smell burnt enough.” The man, Victor Zsasz, approached you. He was like a predator already, looking you up and down. You had dressed up specifically to attract him, according to what Fish said would draw him in. He was used to dark leather clad women in black fishnet and lace. So you wore a soft blue floral skirt with a sheer white blouse over a pale, almost silver blue tank-top. Your long legs exposed by the small blue pumps with little silver bows ontop of your toes.

Fish knew her stuff, because his eyes seemed to wander you longer than you expected him to. You couldn’t help the smile as you turn back to the pan and turn off the bacon. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” You giggled.

He stepped back suddenly, eyeing you as you turned with a plate. “You must be Victor Zsasz, Liza told me about you.”

“She did, did she?” Victor narrowed his eyes to almost slits. You smiled sweetly back to him as you placed a plate on the counter. It held two large pancakes, four crispy pieces of bacon and a handful of scrambled eggs.

“She said you liked blueberries in your sweets, so I put some in your pancakes… hope you didn’t mind.” You held out a fork that he took from you ever so slowly. Your lips curled up into a smile as you felt the electricity of your hands touching. Licking your bottom lip on purpose, you caught his eye and kept that contact. Then you blushed and patted your hands on your apron, straightening yourself out again. “Please enjoy, I’m going to go bring Mr. Falcone his breakfast.”

You took up the last place, placing the eggs and bacon you deemed appropriate on it and the pancakes. It was almost delicious the way he watched you walk out.

This became a thing for you two, and you enjoyed every second of it. Victor would come in early, greet you personally and recieve his plate. You two wouldn’t speak much, but so much was said. Well, atleast, he didn’t speak much, you did. The way he leaned near the counter where you worked, watched every inch of you as you moved around the kitchen, never hindered by his presence. He often was quiet, but you’d tell him about what you were making, fond memories of foster care and cooking, how you’d cook for other kids and the families. You’d talk about reading books, and the newest thing out in the library. What music you were obsessed with, the small things that you could rattle on for hours, but he only stayed to listen for about 40 minutes a day. Eating his meal, lingering around as you smiled and chatted to him, then wishing him goodbye as he left.

He even started coming to dinner. Which is when you knew you had him.

One night the dinner table had been set for Falcone, Victor long since gone from breakfast and no sight of him coming for dinner. You had put the left overs away, sent a few of Falcone’s men home with food and were cleaning up. Liza came in from the dinning room to return plates and wish you a goodnight. You were going to get something started for tomorrow’s dinner, marinating took all night.

You had your hands just cleaned when you felt breath along your skin. You jumped in your skin as you looked back and found him looking down at you. “No dinner for me?”

“Dinner was three hours ago, Victor.” You teased with a smile. You turned and actually found the space between you two smaller than before. Atleast Fish had tasked you with keeping a beautiful man distracted. Your hand reached out and touched his chest over his exposed vest. “If you wanted food, you ought to be more punctual.”

You winked at him and tried to laugh off the butterflies in your stomach. But then his hands were on the counter behind you and suddenly you were trapped in his arms. You looked up to him as if the world were in slow motion and you could see it. This was not food hunger. He looked about ready to devour you. “I see… well… am I just in time for dessert then?”

His words sent shivers down your back as you backed up into the counter. The cool marble kissed your lower back through your thin sundress. A spaghetti strapped floral dress, you could feel just how thin it was now as Victor stepped up more into your space. It was like every step he took, took away your breath.

“Yes. Though.” You breathed as you found your body was finally working again. Lust be damned, you weren’t a shy lamb. Your hands found his vest, trailing the edges of it and being sure just enough pressure to brush his silk shirt against his skin. “I would have given you desert before breakfast, if you had asked.”

Your eyebrows cocked up at him. His mouth was open just slightly. His dark eyes fell to your lips, and you let your teeth bite down on them just enough to pull on it. That’s all it took. His lips were on you, and you were pressed hard into the counter. Fingers gripped onto his clothes, pulling him close, you could hear his sharp inhale as he kissed you hard. Those gloves slid from the counter to your hips, gripping and pulling you against him.

“I’ll remember to ask next time.” He smirked against your lips as he lowered his hands under you and lifted you to be perched on the counter. You stopped his hands on your thighs and pulled them close. A smirk on your lips as you kept eyecontact and took his right index finger into your mouth. You just put it in enough to nip the end and pull it off slowly, it slid like silk. The other was just as easy as you found the angle to do so, and watched his pupils blow out in lust over your mouth.

“I was thinking of blueberry muffins for breakfast.” You whispered, your breathy tone only making the tent in his pant more pressing into your legs and the counter. “That means if you get here early enough… you’ll have about 35 minutes to eat dessert before breakfast is ready.”

Victor cupped your face and smashed your lips. A gleeful giggle fell from you lips as he pushed you back on the counter more and his lips trailed down your neck. He was starving, but not for actual food. You moved your chin and suddenly his kisses grew to aggressive attacks on your throat. Then attacks on the tops of your breasts. Those long fingers yanked the straps down off your shoulders and pushed the clips off your strapless bra. Your breasts were instantly exposed, but he didn’t let the cool of the kitchen harden your nipples more than his mouth did. He kissed and sucked on each one, meticulous as you gripped his shoulders. Pulling him inbetween your legs as your head fell back.

Those hands found their way to the edge of your dress, pushing it up and past the counter. He minded pulling it out from under you. But he wasn’t mindful of your dainty, no line panties. Those he yanked from you and even chuckled when they ripped right off you.

“Victor!” You gasped, the burn of the tear on your rear ever present as he discard the cloth onto the floor.

“You really ought to work without them.” He growled against your breasts. Then his mouth was back up against your mouth. His lips mingled with yours. “Just a thought.”

You grabbed at him, not forgetting his fingers that found their way between you. Your hands trailed down his vest, unbuttoning it and his shirt, grabbing onto the open material to keep him close, and to grip as he dove a finger in you. Not that all this hadn’t made you wet yet. Though, his fingers now made you twice as wet. He pumped it in and out a few times before pressing against you, finding your weak spots. Then pumping against that. You were limp against him, unable to move as that one finger became two.

“Not… fair.” You whimpered, biting down on his lower lip. Your legs were shaking as you felt the first orgasm coming. There was no warning, and no stopping it as his thumb circled your clit. You cried out against his lips, and he let you, the kitchen echoed your volume. Panting, you watched him smirk up at you and pull his long fingers from you.

“When did I ever say I was a fair man?” He whispered, taking them in one by one and cleaning them in his mouth.

“You don’t want seconds?” You blurted out, looking him in the eye. Your hands that had rumpled his shirt now fell to his chest. Trailing goosebumps down his chest to his belt, the tent in his pants was more present. Your fingers flicked it open and yanked his belt towards you, rewarding your core with his hips pressed up against you.

“Well… since you put it that way.” He grinned his lopsided grin. “I do believe I will.”

His pants were pushed open and the time it took him to push your legs open and pull your rear to the very edge of the counter was minimal. His cock barely ran the length of your slit before he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust in. Your kisses trailed his neck and you sucked hard on a soft spot as he grabbed your hips and thrust again. The moans that trickled off him from you and the deep throated growls from him mixed in the kitchen.

He had started off deep and slow thrusts, but he stopped holding back when you raked your nails under his shirt and down his back. Victor started a punishing fast pace and you cried out more as you found you were not one to hold back long. He shuddered as you dug your nails in and came around him hard, crashing down fast.

You were in heaven. Bliss filled your bones as his thrusts began to break. It wasn’t too much longer before in your orgasm haze you felt him buck against you and grunt in effort. There was a small hiss from him as he clumsily found your lips and locked them together. You were limp and dazed for a good few minutes before you found your lips clumsily reacting to his. Then he was gone, there was a chill where the warm of your bodies meeting used to be. Victor helped you off the counter and steadied you as you wobbled a bit. Your legs felt like Jell-o

You smiled at him, warm and inviting as he reached around and fixed your bra, then your straps. He straightened your dress and inspected you as he brushed your hair back with his bare fingers. Victor zsasz pulled on his gloves and tipped your chin, looking you in the eye. “Thank you… for dessert.” He near purred at you.

“Anytime.” You murmured happily, finally stable and focused out of your haze. “Except… you know… when I’m actually cooking. It’d be unsanitary.”

He actually chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your lips and then your forehead. Sweet, soft even, as he looked you over again. “Do you need a ride home?”

You blushed honestly as you shook your head. “No, I have a ride, thank you. Besides… if you drove by my home, I’d be tempted to ask you to stay.”

“What would be wrong with that?” He chuckled, that lopsided grin back on his face.

“I wouldn’t be on time to work the next day. And I, for one, am a punctual person.” You teased as you pulled his open shirt towards you. Diving your hands onto his bare skin, you felt his warmth as you buried your face against his collar bone. His arms took a moment to process the motion, but soon he had you wrapped in his arms.

“Good night.” He whispered, before pulling back. “I will be ontime for meals from now on.” He snickered as he sauntered off. You smiled and almost danced around the kitchen as you tried to bring yourself back to center. You honestly couldn’t wait for breakfast now. Finishing up what you had left, after washing your hands again, you closed down and wiped down the counters and set off towards home. So you liked the way his arms felt around you, and that was the best sex you’d ever had. Fish Mooney had given you the best task ever… you would have never met him without her.

Being Falcone’s new chef was definitely the best job ever.


End file.
